The Pirates' Life I Chose
by Creaturemaster
Summary: What happens when a rag tag group of pirates that aren't very good at what they do are thrown right into the middle of the greatest battle for not only their lives, but for the lives of every pirate, wizard, Buccaneer, Witchdoctor, etc. in the Spiral? Find out in this story right here. Is filled with my characters, along with the many wonderful people that populate the Spiral.


**First Pirate 101 fanfic. Do not judge or criticize too much if I get somethings messed up. This takes place with my characters, and because this is my story (plus I'm only as far as level 26 right now) I will make a few things up. The majority of the story however, will be based on the Pirate 101 story line. Just an FYI :)**

It shouldn't have happened this way.

There they were lying on their cots, soaking the sheets dark brown with their blood.

One was covered in several cuts and had a long red line running down from his armpit to his shin. The cut had been from a Cutthroat sword wielded in the hands of a shark. The shark had sounded all to strange to be a real shark, and had been followed by the pirate crew to find that it was really a prawn in disguise. They had managed to stop the prawns plan to take out Captain Avery, but it had come a deadly price.

The second one was missing the bottom half of her leg, neatly cut off at the knee by a large ax. A broken spear staff was lodged in her abdomen, broken near where wood and spear point met. The injures had come from a raid gone wrong on the Presidio. They had done multiple times, and had gotten away with it every time, much to guards displeasure. No matter how many traps, guards, or weapons had been added to the fortress, they had always managed to escape, albeit sometimes a little close on occasions. But this time it had gone so horribly wrong.

The cabin door squeaked open on its rusty hinges and a set of boots could be heard clomping down on the wooden planks. A boy on a stool by the cots turned around in his seat to look up at skeleton dressed in ratty shorts and a torn shirt that let you see bits of his rib cage. In one hand he carried a stick with a chicken's foot attached to the top. In the other hand he carried strips of bandages and a bowl of saltwater. Despite being dead, he had a full set of dreadlocks that gave him an eerie look when he was in the moonlight on a dark evening.

"Have they an' they moved?" he asked in a rasped Jamaican accented voice.

The boy shook his head and took of his large hat, ignoring the tickling of a giant scarakeet feather in the brim as it passed his nose. "No, they haven't moved a bit. They're barely breathing."

The skeleton's face became grimmer as he walked to the cots and began to address the girl's wounds first, careful to avoid the spear shaft as he dipped some bandages in the salt water and wrapped them gently around the stump of her leg. The girl's breathing suddenly became sharp as the salt entered the wound and went back to it's slow, labored pace as the pain subsided a little.

"To prevent infection to my captain, my captain." the skeleton explained as he moved onto the boy. He dipped his bony hand into the bowl and gently dabbed the skin around the long cut that ran up and down the boy's entire right side. The skeleton then began to bandage the wound as the wind howled outside. After several minutes he stepped back to check his work before bowing to the boy on the stool and heading out of the cabin.

"Hey, Scratch." the boy said, standing up from his seat.

The skeleton turned to listen, pausing at the open door.

"Take the rest of the night off, okay? I call in Mormo if they need anything." the boy ordered.

The skeleton paused, processing the command before slowly nodding his head and leaving the cabin,

quietly closing the door behind him. The boy breathed a sigh of relief and sat back down on the stool.

Those two were constantly at each others throats, always bickering over who was the better witch doctor. He was glad that they had put their argument aside for now to help his best friends in the Spiral stay alive as Birgus Latro, an old crew member of his friend's parent's crew, sailed the ship to Skull Island where they could receive medical treatment.

How his friends ended up like this was simple; it was all his fault. At least, that's how he felt anyway.

_He _had been the one to suggest that they split up to cover both operations, with the majority of the crew going to stop the prawns attack on Captain Avery. While they had been successful in stopping them, a lucky shot by a prawn in shark's clothing had cut their celebration short.

And as they were low on cash, and were desperately in need of a new ship, they had decided to supply the Frogfather with another shipment of spices; what could be said, the guy knew how to sell those spices fast, and could barely keep them in demand, which was why he sent so many pirates after them. He was rarely disappointed, and this was one of those rare times, when the Presidio's guards and traps and proven more than a challenge to the dwindled crew of 8. Put them against the known 20 guards, and probably more hidden else where, that was a risk that had turned into a nightmare. They had to quickly retreat with the wounded, being forced to leave the spices behind.

He sighed. The past was in the past now, and there was nothing he could do right now. The only thing he could do was make sure they got back to Skull Island as fast as they could. Putting his feather brimed hat back on, the Swashbuckler marched out of the cabin and onto the deck, where the large crew of anthropomorphic animals and dead were busy hustling and bustling about.

"Faster! We don't have much time!" he yelled. The crew stopped to stare at him. The boy sighed.

"Fine. 500 gold for everyone if we get there before sunrise!" he roared. The crew quickly got back to work at a faster pace than before. The boy sighed again and collapsed back onto a barrel. The crew, while loyal, had become a bit more demanding lately as they hadn't been payed very much as the funds were low. That was pretty much the reason they had needed to raid the Presidio in the first place.

The boy quickly sat up and looped his arm through the elbow of a mask wearing platypus, pulling him aside and ordering him to stay in the cabin, in case his friends needed treatment.

The Water Mole nodded. "Mormo stay. Mormo help." he agreed as he waddled into the cabin and closed the door behind him. The captain sighed once more as he set to work helping the rest of the crew, swinging up into the rigging to help with the rope work.

The sooner they got to Skull Island, the better.


End file.
